Nightwing: The Blüdhaven Chronicles
by Eden Alice Poe
Summary: [idea spawned via tumblr, based on the unaired Nightwing show] Season 1 (& assuming anyone's going to want more of this...) What if Robin had been too late? What if he hadn't caught Raven as she fell? If the Gem had never been used? ... We join our hero, Dick Grayson, many years later. In a new city, with a new identity, an old face resurfaces. (RobRae.. but also not quite...)
1. Pilot

Looking down the scope for the fifth time, he was positive that the band of men were alone. Or as alone as you can get when traveling to an industrial park.

The security in the whole neighborhood had to be lightened after taking a harsh financial hit a few months prior. Which only served to make his job easier.

As their targets grew softer, so did the criminals.

It only helped Nightwing on patrols like this.

And it was finally time for him to make his move. Jumping lightly from the rooftops, traveling down those well-worn fire escapes, his feet lead him down that familiar pattern once more.

You ambush. You fight. You interrogate.

It was always a simple pattern to follow, when it came down to fighting the pettier criminals, and tonight was no exception. These crooks certainly weren't expecting the vigilante, and had arrived laughably unprepared. They hadn't even bothered bringing any form of deadly weapon. Just their fists, and whatever blunt object they could pick up.

Nightwing traded blows, but made easy pickings of the group, losing track of the number he was taking down. A few ran off, hoping to escape, but he knew they wouldn't be turning a new leaf anytime soon. If he didn't catch them tonight, he was bound to run into them later.

After making sure the would-be smugglers were secured, he grabbed one by the jacket.

"Mind telling me what's in the crates?"

...

NIGHTWING:  
The Blüdhaven Chronicles

"Pilot"

...

Running and jumping home had been fairly relaxing. It beat taking the bus, or walking around like those pedestrians he had to keep an eye on. He knew he wouldn't be able to stop every crime-in-progress, but when given the opportunity, Nightwing took advantage of the cover of the night.

Upon finally arriving home, and gently shutting the window close, he allowed himself a quick glance around the near-immaculate apartment he called home.

The apartment was simple, with only two bedrooms that could be fully utilized; one that Dick used for sleep, the other as a very basic personal gym. But when one entered not from the window (as was often the case for Nightwing), but from the doorway (as Dick Grayson often tried to enter and exit from), one could be treated to a view of a sparsely furnitured living room, connecting to a kitchenette that was less often frequented. A few dishes still littered the counters, both in a mixture of laziness & intention, their sole purpose was chiefly to feign an air of actual living in the small rooms that Grayson called his home. In the compacted living room, Dick was always leaving extra blankets and pillows on his second-hand couch, both to catch up on sleep after late-running patrols and to add to the façade of his daily habits within the apartment, should anyone ever question how much time he truly spends in the confines of his own domain.

His goal now was to stagger into the cramped enclosure that constituted a hallway, with two off-shoots to the separate bedrooms, and a final door leading to a claustrophobic bathroom.

It brought him back to another time, glancing around at the blankets and discarded food items. When he was first starting out on his own, and it had seemed everyone was asking for him.

...

Gently shutting the door, Richard double-checked his lock, noticing minute differences a normal person would never dream of picking up on.

"You're lucky it took me a solid hour to find your stash, otherwise I'd say you were getting sloppy," a dark voice called from behind him.

"And you're lucky I decided to soundproof the place, Bruce," he growled. This was his third visit, and Richard knew exactly what the Dark Knight was going to be asking of him.

"The attacks are getting worse, and they're moving east," he said, setting some files on the coffee table. Rich ignored them and headed for the kitchen, eager to make himself a light snack instead.

"Whatever these _things_ are, they're looking for something, and the League needs all the help we can get." Bruce followed him in, watching as he took out a bag of chips. Nonchalant as always, that was how Dick Grayson operated.

He tossed a few chips high into the air, catching them seamlessly in his mouth. "Then call in the Titans," he mumbled with his mouth full, "They'll be more than happy to work side-by-side with you."

Here the Dark Knight merely glared at the suggestion. They had this argument before, and it looked like they were going to have it again...

...

But for now, Grayson tried to let his exhaustion overtake him. He fell onto his bed without bothering to take off his Nightwing suit, and nearly fell into dreamless sleep.

If not for that blasted alarm clock and his early shifts at the police station, he might have dared to let it overtake him. However much Nightwing might've deserved the recommended eight hours, Dick Grayson still had his livelihood to uphold.

Sighing as he literally rolled himself out of the comfort of his bed, Richard knew that after pulling an 'all-nighter', his full-day shift at work was going to be hell.

He vaguely remembered peeling off the sweat-drenched suit and setting the shower to a scalding hot stream of water. The heat felt refreshing as it boiled away his tense muscles and allowed a bit of relaxation. He took his time in the bathroom, making sure that any visible 'battle scars' from the night were either concealed or could be explained away.

He splashed his face once more with the water from the sink before finally resolving to pick up his breakfast on his drive to the station. After all, there was supposed to be "some small _cocina_" that served the best tamales in Blüdhaven.

...

A void. One that he was familiar with now, yet it still felt too alien... He'd been to distant planets before, even traveled the galaxy in search of a friend, but this was something entirely different. A whole new territory, whose usual rules and physics had no bearing over him.

It was always filled with light, that much he was certain. A blinding light that hid every possible corner, that drew the eyes away from focusing on any single point. Making one's bearings impossible to grasp, seemed it's sole purpose at times like this.

He was floating now, and he had his Nightwing suit back on. He could feel her again. She was drawing him in, she wanted him to find her.

"Where's the Boy Wonder? Robin?" she asked again, always the same questions. "You were supposed to catch me... help me..."

"Hello?" he yells, worried. "Hey, I can help! Where are you? Tell me how I can help you!"

He watched as his suit melted away, into another he had recognized from many years ago. The notorious red and green, the well-known insignia, he had this old uniform back. Nightwing had faded back into Robin.

Following the disembodied voice, however, he should not have noticed these changes as quickly as he would normally. In fact, there were many things he shouldn't be taking note of. It felt like the light in this void-space was becoming unbearable. It was often this way when he was close to waking up... Waking up.

Wake up.

WAKE UP.

...

"DEPUTY GRAYSON, IF YOU DON'T WAKE UP THIS SEC-" "LET ME HELP YOU!" he yelled as he jerked himself up from his desk.

All the officers turned to stare at him. He smiled, trying to reassure them.

"Hehe, sorry Chief," he turned to his superior, "Um.. guess I was a bit more tired than I thought. Erm-"

"Grayson, it's high time we get you off desk-work and out there in the field," Sergeant Estevez sighed with disappointment. Keeping the green cop out of commission had been the officer's main goal, but as time passed it became apparent that the 'new guy' was more than ready to face the real work, head on.

"You're running patrol with me after lunch, we'll relieve Mark and his partner from their post in the Blüdbath."

The remaining officers who were spectating immediately dispersed.

"The Blüdbath, sir?" Grayson feigned curiosity. Everyone knew about the slums of Blüdhaven, and more importantly the crime rings that loved to operate just on the peripheries.

…

The early afternoon sun glinted off the roadway, heavily impeding the officer's vision, but it did not distract from one's ranting to the other.

"-worked hard to get where I am now. Got that wife, the two kids I gotta put through college, and here I am with Bruce Wayne's trigger-happy ex-ward. I take it you were getting tired of living in his shadow or something, but moving out here? You've just hidden yourself in an even bigger shadow-"

Estevez paused in his rant as he made a sudden turn, the private radio alerting them to 'suspicious activity' two streets away.

"-Blüdhaven's always been in Gotham's shadow, and it's never going to leave it. You would've been better off at that stuffy private school on the west coast that he shipped you off to-"

Officer Grayson continued his silent scanning of the streets, mostly ignoring his superior's words of wisdom. He could handle the judgement he received from his coworkers, if it meant donning the uniform would finally begin to mean something more than just paper work. Finally, he'd be able to help on two fronts; as the vigilante this 'Shadow Town' needed, and as an officer it can appreciate.

Besides, that 'stuffy private school' had too many bad memories with it. The Titans that he had been running with no longer brought any meaning to his mission. He needed to leave California, especially Jump City.

"Looks like we've found your first victims," Estevez nodded to an alley with some teens gathered at it's entrance. They wore varying degrees of apparel but most had some cartoonish snake drawn on an article of clothing, or a green bandana tied. They belonged to a sub-branch of the gang that ruled the Blüdbath, and one that clearly was looking to expand.

He stopped the car and nodded in a way meant to be encouraging. "Go on, see what they're up to."

"Sir, I... I think I know these kids."

As Richard stepped out of the cruiser and into the sun, he felt apprehension wash over him. Now he saw these aimless teens clearly, and they were so young. Too naive to truly know the danger that they placed themselves in by becoming targets in the ongoing gang wars.

He turned back once more to the cruiser. "I worked with them at the youth center a few blocks over, years back. I'll be able to handle this."

His superior merely shrugged noncommittally as he scanned the streets. "Just find out what they're up to."

Officer Grayson approached the teens, hearing whispered words of warning. "-Aw shit, the _boy scouts_-" "-guy looks _familiar_-" "-if we run, he can't take _all of us_ in-"

Speaking up before the teens had a chance to gain their running start, the officer tried waving in a friendly manner.

"Any of you guys have a ball with you?"

"-the fuck-" "-ball? Like, _basketball_?-" "-wait, I remember this d-"

"Hey, Richie Grayson! You joined the boy scouts, just like you said!" One teen finally approached the policeman, giving him a long forgotten 'secret handshake', the kind thought of in early childhood's swiftly-formed friendships. The teen had disheveled brunette hair, with piercing green eyes.

"Guys, get a game of street-ball goin'. I gotta catch up with Rich here." He waved off the teens as he led the officer to an unoccupied bus bench.

Richard ran his hands along the bench for a moment, tracing the graffiti and brushing off the peeling paint. "You all had so much more potential-" he began.

"And we all had younger brothers and sisters to protect!" the teen interrupted, anger filling his eyes. "If you had stuck around more, if the cops ran patrols here like they should.. I wouldn't be in charge of recruitment, now would I? At least.. I try to keep it to minimum, y'know? But no matter what-"

"Nate, we're doing everything we can. The commissioner's finalizing a plan to break up the gangs! And we even have our own hero now!"

"Yeah, the big blue bird," Nate sighed. "But my friends, my family. We're on the wrong side... You've heard about those _things _that are attacking on the west coast? It's only a matter of time before they get here. There's going to be a war-"

"A war? Nate, calm down. The League's keeping everything under control. They've even asked the Titans to-"

"Can't you see it, Grayson?" the teen asked, fear shining in his eyes. "There's a _something_ coming. We may not even have anything to do with it, but I sure as hell don't want to be a casualty."

The officer placed a hand on the teen's shoulder.

"... Let's worry about this war on the home-front first, okay?"

...

Nightwing stayed perched on the building, watching the city's lights slowly blink into existence. He still felt guilty for making his once-friend into a mole for his department. They needed the information, but he hated manipulating people, especially the kids he had been so close to before.

'Maybe I am just like Slade. Even after all these years...'

Shaking his head, trying to clear those negative thoughts, he finally noticed some sign of activity. A man was pacing the street a few doors down from where Nightwing was sitting. Another person in a dark hoodie had just left a shop, and the man hesitated before shadowing them.

"Great, haven't stopped a mugging in awhile," he grumbled before taking a leap to the balcony below him. At the rate he traveled, he would be lucky to catch the guy before he got any _bright_ ideas.

The person in the hoodie noticed they were being followed by quickening their pace. They were short, quite possibly a woman or teenager or just a smaller man who had a penchant for hoodies. As Nightwing finally landed on the sidewalk, he saw a flash of bright purple hair. There was no doubt in his mind who this person was as the mugger pulled back that hood.

Reacting to the sudden move, Nightwing pulled out a birdarang and threw it, slashing the man's hand and face.

The would-be victim reached for the man's still-outstretched arm and pulled him forward, jabbing him with her elbow. Having him incapacitated, she then shifted her weight and flipped him forward onto the sidewalk.

"Okay! Okay! I give! Please! Stop!" he blathered for a moment before the hero finally gave him a swift hit, rendering the man unconscious.

As Nightwing cuffed the dissident, he finally looked at the girl he helped. 'Can't exactly say that I _saved_ her.'

That unnaturally purple hair, it had to be dyed, right? And those wide amethyst eyes that looked.. bored, maybe? She was even wearing a _dark blue_ hoodie.

But there was no way she could be...

"I'm sorry but... Do I know you?" he asked finally. His staring was sure to be noticed, even if he had a mask on.

Those eyes were still blank with boredom. Or maybe it was actually shock, and he wanted to believe that it was that familiar boredom?

No, definitely shock.

Of course, he should be making sure she was okay, not interrogating her. So what if she happened to look like-

All thought was interrupted as an explosion shook the street, heat filling the air around the pedestrians that began filling the street.

'Every damn person and their dog just _has_ to have a closer look.' Nightwing was forced to make a decision.

"EVERYONE CLEAR THE AREA! GET TO SAFTEY! LEAVE! GO!" He ran headlong into the fray as the civilians began running.

Most of the city was still shrouded in it's post-dusk darkness, but as the flames from the blast began overtaking a few buildings, the street was lit up as if it were still day. Shadows from bent lampposts danced alongside Nightwing as he ran further, trying to locate the source of the blast, and hopefully the perpetrator as well.

Then the shadows shifted, growing shorter as a few flames literally rose out of a building and began following the costumed hero.

It was humanoid in shape, but that's where similarities ended. The fire appeared to be amassed at a center that floated maybe five feet into the air, with thicker tendrils that reminded him of ghostly limbs. They stood for a moment longer, as opponents would, each analyzing the other.

Finally, the beast threw a limb back, as a pitcher would to ready the release of a baseball, and flung it's 'arm' forward. It's heat seared the spot where Nightwing had been standing moments before.

Throwing the few freeze disks he kept in his belt, he charged the monster before jumping over it and closer to the fire hydrant at the end of the street.

'Just needs to stay put for a few more seconds.'

He made the mistake of glancing back, just as the beast had slashed the last of the ice away, effectively freeing it from being grounded to the sidewalk and allowing itself to chase him. Reaching for an eskrima stick along with another handy birdarang, he flung the projectile and bought himself another few precious seconds. Finally reaching the hydrant, he used the stick to regain the monster's attention.

"Here boy," he called, rapping the metallic weapon against the trap. "Ram right in to me. Go on."

The monster dove for him, knocking the hydrant clean out of it's place, and sending a steady geyser over itself, Nightwing, and the street. All that had been left were soaked ashes.

"As much as I'd love to stay," he told the perished being, "I don't exactly have my own Gordon here to explain all this to. But you're still coming with me." He pulled a vial from his belt and scooped a bit of the ash into it. "Just don't combust before we make it home, got it?"

...

Turning the vial over in his hands a few more times, Dick Grayson contemplated the events of the evening. First that strange girl.. that eerily familiar face. Then that.. Flame Demon? That's what the west coast media had taken to calling them, but so far the attacks had been slowly stretching further east. They were projected to take months to reach Central City, much less Gotham or Blüdhaven.

'Searching for something but certainly not.. She disappeared. She's gone...' He sighed. "_I_ let her fall..."

Placing the sample back on his coffee table, Dick began peeling off his suit, readying for sleep. Suddenly the guilt he felt for manipulating that teen was being overshadowed by an even bigger sense of remorse.

"I could have saved her..."

...

Notes: Yep. This is a thing. It's happening. Special thanks to cockismybusiness via tumblr (affectionately referred to as Cocky), for inspiring all this. Actually, for coming up with this whole grand scheme. We've got a great season planned for you, dear readers. So be sure to send in your feedback! (wouldn't want any of those mid-season hiatuses...hahaha no siriusly, please review if you read, i need criticism please.)

Tune in next week for the next installment: "Wounds"  
Same Bat-time (give or take), same Bat-channel.


	2. Wounds

The noise of a crowd nearly brought to the brink of anarchy was tuned down as Dick Grayson reached for his remote, messing with the buttons and dials in an effort to bring his focus to the phone in his hand.

"I'm just worried about you," she explained, her voice soft on the other side of the line.

"About the almost-riot that happened today? Relax Babs, BPD had it all under control." He tried rolling his neck as he said this. The cramped riot gear that he had been put in was not nearly as comfortable as crime dramas had made them seem. He watched a reporter's excited face relay unheard news as he tried focusing once more on his friend's voice.

"Dick, stop. Alfred told me-" "The fight I had with Bruce? Honestly, Barbara, listen. It was no big-" "Dick! Let me finish!"

He set down the remote finally, anger swelling for a moment before he let go of a sigh.

"Fine."

There was a pause. As if she were second guessing her next choice of words.

"He told me.. that you thought you _saw_ her..."

He waited for her to continue, then decided to play dumb.

"Saw _who_?"

Another long beat of silence.

"_Your old teammate_."

...

NIGHTWING:  
The Blüdhaven Chronicles

"Wounds"

...

Lifting himself off the couch, he finally shut off the television set. The evening news wouldn't tell him anything he didn't already know; the riot never came to fruition.

"Tell Alfred that I had my eyes checked," he growled into the receiver. 'So much for being a faithful confidant.'

"Dick, if you're seeing things again-" "I don't know what I saw! And it doesn't matter! Look," he pinched the bridge of his nose, trying to regain control. "Is there anything else you need from me? I've had a long day, and I'm in for a long night patrol soon."

"The offer still stands."

He was seconds away from hanging up the phone right then.

"Even if it's not working directly with the League," she clarified in a rush, "We could _all_ use your help. Those _Fire Monsters_.. They're in Gotham now. Even _Metropolis_ has had some sightings. It wouldn't surprise me if you were hit next."

"I've got a patrol to run. I'll talk to you soon."

Before he hung up, he heard her pleading once more, "Just think on-"

The phone rested on the coffee table as he mulled over his current set of choices. Standing up, he decided to procrastinate for one more day. It wasn't like any other supers knew about the attack that had occurred about a week ago.

...

Barely repressing a yawn, the officer attempted stretching in his seat as he stared at the desk work that had begun accumulating. Ever since he'd started patrolling, Grayson never seemed to find enough time to completely finish his work within the office itself. Sure it was mostly busy 'gofer paperwork' that needed to be filed away into the database, but it piled up at alarming rates when a whole watch shift pushed it onto one man.

He glanced down, finally noticing the doodle that had formed on the edge of one of the official documents that he was supposed to be copying. He had a sneaking suspicion that no matter how long he took to erase it, it wouldn't come out comple-

"Grayson! Grab your badge! We've got an emergency on Fifth Avenue, and you're driving!" his superior yelled as he scrambled to gather his wits.

"Sir, what emergency?" "Why take the rookie?" "Where's the fire, Estevez?"

"You're right on the money, Blair! Fire on Fifth, which means the rookie's gotta clock time driving under pressure." He stood right at the doorway of the station now, watching as Dick rushed to take the cruiser's keys from reception.

If putting Dick _'under pressure'_ was the sergeant's only goal, then he was certainly giving the young officer a rough time with it. His mind was racing as he thought of all the problems that even a simple fire could bring. The district that that street ran through was densely populated with homes and apartments complexes, the perfect place for an arsonist to wreak havoc. If it proved to be something _inhuman,_ however...

'But _one_ attack a _week_ before was a fluke, right? This _has_ to be an arsonist. Or some _kid_ playing with matches. Or maybe-'

All thought was interrupted as he made that final turn, greeted to the sight of another humanoid mass of flames chasing pedestrians along the street.

"Holy shit! Pull over, now!" Estevez barely had time to wait for his partner-in-training to stop the vehicle, which nearly made him slip on the ground still moving beneath him as he opened his door.

"GRAYSON GET OUT HERE. ALL CIVILIANS CLEAR THE AREA. GET TO SAFTEY." He continued barking orders at those standing in shock, or the kids sitting by their windows wanting to watch from a 'safe' place.

The monster didn't seem to notice it's audience's increasing size, and began to set fire to the previously untouched trees that lined the sidewalks. Which in turn was helping to further decimate the buildings. And although some fire-fighters had equipped themselves where fire hydrants would allow them, they were far from knowing how to stop a moving target, instead focusing on the buildings they were trained to save.

"Any bright ideas on how to get the civvies outta here, and take that thing out. I'm all ears, Grayson," the officer grumbled as he surveyed the situation.

Dick already had a few bright ideas, some that involved calling in the city's new resident hero, but that would prove impossible. He'd gotten in the habit of leaving his Nightwing uniform at home, operating one hundred percent as Officer Grayson.

"If we could trick that thing into extinguishing itself, we might not need to worry about the civilians."

"Great plan, you implement it, and I'll get them outta here." The sergeant gave a kind of mock-salute as he began herding the kids away from the action, yelling at parents and other adults who 'should know better'.

"Gee, thanks chief," Dick muttered as he began running towards the monster. There were still people taking videos and pictures of the carnage, but the being seemed uninterested in them. And then a lone figure ran into it's line of sight, arms waving.

"Over here! Hey! I've seen fireplaces that give off more heat than you!" she yelled. That same girl, from the other night. That same violent shade of violet hair, and that now-familiar navy hoodie.

Even if she wasn't... Could she have something to do with these monsters?

The beast finally reacted, maybe out of anger, and appeared to reach out with one flaming limb, as if to grab hold of her. She dodged to the side and continued calling at it, luring it further away from the small crowd.

Startled by her appearance, Dick began a full sprint towards the monster, hurling insults at it in an attempt to gain its attention. The being only had eyes for girl, it seemed, and was throwing it's flames towards her at every opportunity. Just when it seemed close to actually landing a hit, Dick lunged for her, knocking them both out of harm's way.

He pulled his gun out of it's holster, thankful that the streets had been cleared and no civilians could be hit by stray bullets. Even though they'd be useless against a monster made of an inferno, he fired his glock at the being, gaining it's attention- and it's wrath.

"C'mon buddy, right this way!" He ran straight towards the fire-fighters that had quelled the damage, some were readying to move to other affected areas.

"He's bringing that thing right towards us!" "Hey! Hoses out!" "Let's nail this thing before it lights something else up!"

They made quick work of extinguishing the mass of moving fire, even washing away the ash into the sewers. "Just in case it gets any kinda ideas."

...

Reinforcements from the station had arrived fashionably late. Sergeant Estevez was giving a reporter a statement, other officers were interrogating the Blüdhaven Fire Department and many civilians. Anyone who'd needed treatment was long gone by this point, and the sun was finally beginning it's race towards the horizon.

Dick stood watching the people mill about, absently rubbing his bandaged hand. He hadn't even noticed that he'd received a minor burn, but felt lucky in the fact that it was one that was sure to heal in no time.

"Um, excuse me."

He turned in the direction of a new voice. Or at least, one that he felt he hadn't heard in years. It was a soft whisper now, likely to be gravelly when it's owner was a lot less shy, but still very feminine.

"I just wanted to say... Thank you, Officer Grayson." It took him off-guard, seeing her again. She held her arm in a nervous way, a small blush painting her cheeks, as if she wasn't used to expressing gratitude...

"Heh," he smiled, "Just doing my job." She took this as a cue to leave, a smile of departure gracing her lips, a small nod in acknowledgement. He felt a pang of sadness that she was going so soon, but did everything he could to not let it show.

"Take care!" he called, watching the girl give her own quiet 'bye' in reply.

His smile faded as she walked on, pulling her hood up once more to cover her face.

'There is something about this girl, I can't quite grasp but... I think I know her. But she can't possibly be-'

"Grayson! Wasn't that the civvie you saved?" Estevez said, placing a hand on his shoulder and bringing the officer out of of his musing. "Did you question her yet?"

"Erm, actually, not really-"

"Hey! Miss!" the sergeant called for the girl as she nearly disappeared around the street corner.

"We'd like to ask you a few questions, it's standard procedure. Would you mind coming with us?"

...

Her name was Rachel Roth, and if they were to believe her story, she had been in 'the wrong place at the right time'. She was running errands for her grandparents, saw that people were in danger, and acted accordingly. But Dick didn't want to believe any of it.

The backstory felt so completely skewed, yet the motive, and even the way she acted out in the field. It had to be her. She hadn't changed in character, in how she cared for other's well-being. A new name, the same tricks.

The officer interrogating her now was giving simple concluding questions, making sure that there were no lose ends. Dick was watching through the window to the room, several desks away.

It hurt him now, to see this girl. This face that he had been so sure he'd never see again. A shadow of a person he had been so close to.

He felt a the pain of mourning again as he looked at her now, knowing that she shouldn't possibly be around, walking and talking. Looking like she did so long ago.

Her face hadn't changed. Even thought she claimed to be a few years older than that time...

The time he stood by and watched his best friend fall to her death.

...

He still remembered it all too clearly. In the same way that one remembers the terrors of a nightmare right after they've woken, but before they've fully gained consciousness. It was another nightmare that could be added to his terrible memory collection.

He was tracking her T-com, all around the city it seemed. After Slade had torn them apart in the church, in the sanctuary that she had brought him to... where she had tried to tell him. About her birthday.

They had finally stopped at the old tech tower, one that he had stolen from what felt like years before. When he had been been forced into an apprenticeship with the same man that meant to harm her. And Dick felt that last surge of happiness for that night, thinking he had arrived just as a hero needs to; right on time.

But he stalled.

His eyes trailed after the form of her body as it fell. Like his mother, like Barbara. But he could save her now, right? He wasn't a helpless child, or trapped underneath a pathetic villain's old crony.

It would be a simple maneuver, to take out a grappling birdarang and aim for the adjacent building. He'd already calculated the swing arc he'd need to safely catch her and land on the building across from where he stood now.

So why did he feel so paralyzed with fear? Why did the way her _suddenly_ _long_ hair flowed in the wind, as gravity took hold of her, remind him so much of the ones he loved, and the ones he lost?

That moment of hesitation, of standing by watching as she fell, struck by fear and uncertainty, cost him. There was no time to recalculate a swing to save her, she was too close to the ground now- too far from any safe ledges. He'd never be able to hold her long enough to save them both from running straight into a wall.

All he could do was turn away before she'd hit the asphalt. He couldn't afford to remember her like that.

But he'd never forget his teammate's faces, when he had to tell them the news, when they demanded to see her.

When they hadn't recovered a body but had been so sure after searching and following every possible lead...

...

That had filled him with so much hope then. If she never actually hit the ground, then she could still be alive _somewhere_, right? And wasn't this girl, this oh, so familiar girl, proof of that? Even if she went by a different identity, and hadn't aged in the years that have passed and...

'Okay, so it's really a bit of a stretch, but still... Too similar to be coincidence. She might have at least some connection to...'

The way she gave tentative smiles to the officer in the room with her. A short laugh here and there, the steel in her eyes as something he asked made her freeze. The way it melted. Those minute differences in her expression that most people never bothered to pick up on.

Even sitting so far away from her now, he read her face like a book that was written in a language that only he had studied. This was a language that he knew fluently.

A shrill ringing of his office phone shocked him out of his thoughts. Sighing, he took his gaze away from the girl just beyond the glass and picked up the receiver.

Before he could even offer a greeting, Barbara cut him off. "I know about the attack, and if you think that you're not needed after this-"

"I'm not needed with you, I'm needed in my own city. And this attack is proof of that."

He was shaking with anger, but this time, he had a sense of direction.

He'd lost her once before, and he wasn't going to lose her again. With all that had been happening in his own city, in his own life, he finally had a way to tie up a lose end he'd never realized had been bothering him all this time.

"This is my final decision: I'm not joining the Justice League in whatever crusade they think they're running. I'm fine where I am."

Dick thought he heard a sigh of relief from the other end. "Fine... But Dick... We-.. _I_ miss working with you. Is there any way we could.. meet up? Or _something_?"

That final pause felt like eternity. Barbara was a close friend, but ultimately she could prove to be a distraction. He needed to focus his attention on hundred percent.

"There's.. something I gotta take care of," he said finally, eyes turning back to the girl. Hanging up the phone before she could protest, he continued his watch.

Long after she had eventually left the station, he gathered what information he could from the officer that had interrogated her, filing it away for his own private investigation of her. If Officer Dick Grayson wasn't going to find what he needed, _Nightwing_ was sure to find the resources to put those missing pieces together.

After all, he had a few of his own questions to ask her, and it would be a shame if she were to find a way to take herself 'off the map'.

...

Notes: Really glad to see that the "pilot" got pretty good reception. Hopefully this is up to scratch :) Thank you to everyone who's been following, and especially those who have reviewed! It's great seeing such positive feedback.  
So, be sure to send in your feedback if you haven't yet! Any kind of criticism, it all helps! It only takes a few seconds to tell me what you like/hate, please and thank you! XD

Tune in next week for the next installment: "Necessity"  
Same Bat-time (give or take, don't hold me to keeping it exactly weekly, c'mon guys), same Bat-channel.


	3. Necessity

'I must be certifiably insane. That's it. I'm losing my mind. _Going_. _Insane_.'

He glanced once more at the street behind him, watching the children weave their way in and around parked cars, bouncing balls and various toys strewn about.

Couples were taking late-afternoon walks, dogs pulling crying toddlers behind them.

A picturesque neighborhood. A place that would have been a dream to have grown up in.

'Circus was great, though. And Alfred kept good company... Barbara was fun to have around the manor..'

Laughing with pure joy, two more kids nearly bumped into Dick as they skated by.

Suburbia suddenly made sense. It was the perfect cover, the last place that he'd ever think to find her...

Thoughts turning back to his task at hand, he pulled the slip of paper out of his pocket one more time, glancing at the address.

'Let's see, 811, 813... there it is, 815 Grover Drive.'

The row house matched perfectly with the others, save for it's own variety of plants and wind chimes that covered the entryway. Dick couldn't help but feel that last wave of apprehension wash away as he rapped his knuckles on that aging door.

He was met with the face of an older woman with wavy brunette hair and dark, warm eyes.

"Can I help you, young man?"

Dick cleared his throat for a moment. "Yes, is this the Roth residence? I'd like to speak to Rachel..."

He thought a moment longer before clarifying, "I'm an old friend of hers."

...

NIGHTWING:  
The Blüdhaven Chronicles

"Necessity"

...

Holding the picture in his hand, he would not have believed how easy it had been to get the woman talking if she hadn't already started rambling almost as soon as he had sat down.

The standard questions and offering of refreshment, and off she went, going on and on about her 'lovely granddaughter' and how she 'missed having another presence in the house'.

"My husband suffered a terrible heart attack -now don't look so worried!- so Rachel's been helping me around the home. You couldn't possibly imagine our surprise when she showed up here!"

She motioned towards the picture that she had placed in Dick's hands.

"Her mother ran from home when she was about sixteen. We hadn't heard from her in years, but that didn't stop Rachel..."

She looked longingly at the picture once more.

"If I didn't know any better, I'd say she's the spitting image of her mother..."

It was true. They had similar enough face shape, though this girl's eyes were much darker, and her hair was completely black save for a bright purple streak that had been dyed to one side. Even though it was clearly a school portrait, the girl pictured had on the meanest scowl possible.

'Teenage rebellion. Guess that explains the runaway bit..'

"Erm, I don't suppose you might know how long she'll be staying in Blüdhaven?" he asked.

"Well, that all depends. She did tell us that she was looking into colleges in Gotham, even Metropolis. She wants to keep in touch with us, but we've never set a solid timeframe on her stay-"

"Gran! I'm sorry I'm late! I-" Just as the door clicked itself shut, the girl paused at the room's entrance.

"Rachel, this is Richard Grayson. He says he's an old friend of yours...?"

A small blush painted her cheeks, but she tried to smile it away. Holding out her hand for him to shake, she greeted him.

"Dick Grayson, it's been _awhile_."

"I was wondering if you'd like to have coffee," he said, reaching to meet her hand. At that moment, when they made contact, he felt he was in a dream. It shouldn't be possible, that she was that real. The photograph, the family, none of it should have been possible. But here he was, seeing a side of his teammate he never dared to dream about.

"We could catch up?" he prompted, breaking out of his reverie.

"I'd love to but-" "Rachel! No excuses! Go have lunch with this young man!" her grandmother cut her off, and Dick was grateful for it.

"Okay, fine," she began backing out of the room, running for the steps, "I just need a few things!"

...

She hadn't looked even mildly surprised when he showed her their mode of transportation for the afternoon. A sleek black motorcycle, one that screamed of covert spy missions and Bond-esque escapades.

She hadn't hesitated when he suggested a café, volunteering a hang-out of her own and giving him the proper directions.

She was completely at ease as they sat down at that table, drinks at the ready, and placed her cheek in her hand.

They sat there for a time, making awkward small talk when she finally brought him out of his trance.

"Something wrong, Officer? You're staring at me too much."

"Ahaha- sorry! It's just.." he brought the coffee close to his lips, hoping to hide his embarrassment. All this time, she hadn't lent him even a hint that she was his old teammate. Maybe with the right prod... "You really remind me of someone, Rachel."

"An old girlfriend, perhaps?" she deadpanned.

Having already taken a sip of the steaming coffee, Dick spluttered for a moment, inhaling the hot liquid and struggling to cough it out.

"No," he coughed, "she-" Another few hacks shook his body as he interrupted himself. Rachel looked on in obvious delight at his discomfort, not failing to notice his reddening face.

He finally settled down enough to answer her.

"We were just really close friends. There was another girl and... I'm sure she had her eyes on a few boys..."

Steeping the tea in her hands, she raised an eyebrow. "How can you be sure? Did you ask her?"

"Okay! So not the point here!" he laughed. "I just.. um.."

He picked at the mug's handle, trying and failing to find the right words.

How had he been so sure? It's not like he knew his teammate _that_ well, right? Sure she had closed herself off to most of the team but... That was it. Her reclusiveness! No wonder it had been such a shock for her to go missing. There was never a time that she would give them reason to worry about her. And even when he felt something had been so terribly wrong that night, he had given her that space. He should have known, he should have done som-

"Grayson, you were the one who asked me to come, you are the one with questions for me. So I suggest you gather your wits and ask them. Otherwise, I'm tempted to continue turning these tables."

He set his cup down at that moment, staring at the girl once more.

That caustic wit, that tone of voice. It's just like all those years ago, it's like time doesn't matter and she's still here. Like she never really left.

'Maybe.. but I saw her fall. We never found her body but...'

Bored of waiting for him, she leaned across the table conspiratorially.

"You want me to key you in on the big secret? Though I doubt you'll believe me."

He opened his mouth for a moment, but his thoughts would not spill out.

Face hardening into a grimace, he nodded slowly, unsure of himself, and of this girl that he really wanted to trust.

"I am Raven."

...

Hearing her name was like a hard slap in the face. Or maybe more like an ice cold bucket of water being splashed on a deep sleeper.

Either way, the effect that it had was positively numbing. And Dick felt himself going into shock as he tried to ignore the flood of feelings that _that _particular name brought with it.

He remembered that wave of shock running through him, a laugh -it couldn't have possibly come from his own mouth?- and then..

Walking out the door.

Anger. Disbelief, confusion, sadness. But then back to anger. Always stuck on _anger_...

As much as this girl looked like his teammate, his best friend, his-

No. This was some cruel joke. It made no sense for her to suddenly show up like this. And to out herself so suddenly? That wasn't the _Raven_ he knew. That wasn't how _Raven_ operated.. right?

'It hasn't been so long that I've.. forgotten... Ra-_Raven_.'

And there the _impostor_ was now, exiting the cafe with change for the drinks in hand.

"You know, it's impolite to run out and make the girl pay. Especially when you're the one who asked-"

"You're telling me you're Raven? Really?"

She blinked a moment, slowly putting the coins into her pocket.

"Yes."

"_My_ _Raven_?"

Again, that hesitation. Sure, we were still standing out on the street, but every person was well out of earshot.

She sighed.

"... No, I come from a different universe. But I am still Raven. Just not from _your_ universe."

"And you expect me to believe that?"

She scowled, and he glared back. They each sensed the approaching tedium of an argument that didn't need to happen.

But how else could he prove to himself that she was who she claimed to be?

"You _must_."

"Show me your powers then."

"I can't."

He had her now! Even with civilians ducking on and off the sidewalk, _Raven_ would be able to prove herself!

"Why?"

"Uh... my powers don't work here," she stated as if this fact would be glaringly obvious, "As I said, I'm from _another universe_; there's already a 'me' in this universe and I'm not supposed to be here in the first place. I lost my powers trying to get here."

"Oh, how convenient," he deadpanned, scowling even deeper.

"Don't make such a face. You are an old man!"

"Old Man?!" he spluttered, "I'm only-"

"Doesn't matter." She held up a hand to stop his rant. "You refuse to believe me, and I'm not absolutely sure how I can convince you."

She bit her lip nervously for a moment, considering her next choice of words.

"But what I do know is that there's a girl in your universe right now who's in danger. A girl who's been running for far too long and who needs your help. And right now, I need to help you find her."

Dick clenched his fist, his anger rising, and watched as the girl's violet eyes widened in surprise, as if sensing the waves of rage.

"I searched for years, I chased every lead, I went through every possibility and lost too many friends. And I'm supposed to suddenly believe that there's another chance… "

"…She never had time to explain it to you, did she?" the girl whispered.

"Explain what?" he demanded, but the girl was already walking away.

"Hey! I'm talking to-" "When was the last time that you spoke to her?"

For someone who was proportionally smaller than him, she was an extremely fast walker.

"I don't know, about six years? Time flies when you disappear on a g-"

"I mean what day? What was so significant about the day she disappeared? If you have absolutely no clue what's happening here, and especially since those flame demons are attacking."

She turned a sharp corner, which nearly had Dick running right into traffic.

"Uh, it was her birthday, I remember that much. Could have been a tuesday for all I-"

He bumped into her back as she stopped abruptly, chuckling.

"Then that's it. All you know is that _something_ was wrong that day."

"Yeah, and clearly _you_ know-"

"Listen carefully, because I only want to explain all of this to you one time. I'm going to tell you a little story about how I both ended, and then saved the world."

...

They had ended back at the cafe, even sitting in the same booth that they had vacated, by the time she was finishing her tale.

He only interrupted her to ask for clarity on certain points, and she was happy to comply. It was an incredible idea, that there could have been- scratch that. That there _was_ a reality where Raven didn't have to fall. That he had caught her safe and sound.

That she had gone on living, and enjoying her time with the Titans.

"-It was because of you- well, my universe's Robin- that I found the hope, the courage to stand up against my father. And though I'm still not sure on the details..."

She took a drink of her new cup of tea, her voice cracking from extended use.

"I think I received a cross-dimensional distress call of sorts. Your Raven hasn't been used as a pawn in Trigon's game, but I could sense she was growing weaker. She feared for this world, and I knew I couldn't ignore even the slightest possibility of... If there was a chance to help..." Trailing off, she sipped once more at the tea.

"A plane of existence can only support so many magical bodies at one time. I can tap into your universe's inner workings, but only at key moments. Suffice it to say, I shouldn't be here at all, but my limited empathy still works like a charm."

She smiled as he sat there staring again. "It's nice feeling so absolutely free with no repercussions. Though, I've been slowly readying myself for it for a few years now."

He snapped out of his thoughts at that mention. "Wait, how old _are_ you? That birthday was your sixteenth but-"

"Our universes might be closely linked, but our timelines are skewed. I just turn nineteen back on my Earth."

"But how can-" "I'll explain _parallel_, _temporal_ and _reality_ jumping some other time, okay Boy Blunder?"

And there she was again. Those years melting away.

"You know. Now that you've found me, or I've found you... We need to find a way to build our search. A cold-case disappearance can be tough even with another super's help. And if you think I'm going to be able balancing my day job with my duty to this city with the investigation on top of it all-"

"Which is why I'm moving in with you."

It was the second, and certainly not the last, time that night that she made him nearly choke on his drink.

...

Dear old Grandma Roth was sad to see her newfound granddaughter leave, but promises of a proper reunion were enough to hold back the tears.

Dick Grayson's neighbors didn't bother to question him much on his new roommate, easily accepting this new 'cousin' that he was helping.

"She needs a place to stay while she attends university, money's tight, you know how it is."

And anytime they had been caught by one of his coworkers who just '_couldn't_ help but to think she looks so familiar, just like that girl from that fire awhile ago'.

"Are you blind? Yeah, they got that wild hair, but c'mon! Those two look _nothing_ alike! Wow, way to stereotype."

It was an easy transition from Rachel Roth, the helpful granddaughter, to Rachel Roth, the cousin from out of town.

Dick gave her the spare bedroom -save for the fact that he really had no where else to put some of the equipment that was already in there- and they both recalled old rules regarding the one-bathroom situation. Patience and respect for privacy was key in those situations.

They made very quick work of creating an effective 'cover schedule'. Enough time was allotted for leaving and returning to the apartment that Rachel's cover story as a student worked, but allowed Raven time to research her cold-case disappearance. Along with any other mysteries that Blüdhaven would need their newest dynamic duo to solve.

Dick found that he hadn't had to change much from his old patrol times, except that he found company on his night out now. It was comforting though, having another person on those rooftops with him. Just her mere presence felt like an eye of calm in the brewing storm. And finally he was allotting himself more time to rest now.

Because if there was one thing that Raven was adamant about, it was that she'd work to protect that city just as much as her own.

Which only added to his comfort now. Instead of one lonely man who barely spent any time in that apartment, now there were two insomniacs who inhabited the space that could nearly be called a home.

But for the first time since he had been running his own team, Dick finally understood why Batman loved having a sidekick around, why he seemed to always be filing up the cave with more Batgirls and Robins.

The extra help worked wonders for Dick's sleeping habits.

...

Notes: Awesome to see that you guys still are liking this! Huge thank you to new followers/favers, AND a round of applause to reviewers!  
Reminder to everyone that some of these scenes come from cockismybusiness' comics. I have a link to the tag on my profile, so be _sure_ to check those out! (Think of it.. as a way of seeing some scenes before they're published ;D)  
Feedback helps the most. So thank you to all the lovely reviewers! And don't be afraid to give me the cold, harsh truth! Or the warm, nice truth, it's all good :) just review!

Tune in next week for: "Complications"  
Same Bat-time, same Bat-channel.


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